January ritual:
Evergreens outside again,
where they belonged,
poinsettias long gone
dried dropped leaves
and pine needles swept up.
Winter’s wall rebuilt
between us
and all that colder nature.
January ritual:
Evergreens outside again,
where they belonged,
poinsettias long gone
dried dropped leaves
and pine needles swept up.
Winter’s wall rebuilt
between us
and all that colder nature.
there's a poem in every day
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"
custom poems on vintage typewriters
One Poet's Writing Practice
A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014
Living in the moment